


Let us indulge, just this once.

by alexxir



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fingering, Intimacy, Oral Sex, Other, Outlandish dildos, Pegging, Porn with a side of soft feels, let me introduce you to my trans claude agenda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24699721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexxir/pseuds/alexxir
Summary: Confusion marred her brow for a total of three seconds before it clicked. Her mouth flew open in surprise. "You named it?!""How could I not?" The tease in his voice was betrayed by his own flushed cheeks. "A flashy name for a flashy member-"His words were cut short by a pillow to the face.---Emboldened by his progress with the Sreng ambassadors on Almyran trade routes, Claude confesses a fantasy in his typical scheming fashion.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 13
Kudos: 56





	Let us indulge, just this once.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back, whew. World cold and scary, fanfic soft and warm.
> 
> This piece uses gendered descriptors for Claude's nether regions. I use the terms in this fic personally being trans myself, but one size does not fit all, so disclaimers for the term cock being used.

It's _perfect_. 

The dildo caught the early morning sun in shimmers. It stood up proudly on the dresser; a soft glow cast a halo around the mould as if the toy was a divine gift from the goddess herself. Claude let out a low, pleased whistle. He couldn't help himself. The damn thing was just too pretty. 

Now the bait was planted, all he needed to do was be patient. 

His footsteps were nimble as he left the scene of the crime, his lips crooked up in the wiliest of grins. This scheme was only just beginning. 

\--

No sooner had Byleth crossed the threshold of their bedroom did she let out a long, exhausted sigh, pushing back on the body of the door to close it gently behind her. 

Council meetings were a handful on the best of days. Today, those handfuls were slipping through her fingers and making an embarrassing mess of themselves, and more times than she cared to admit, Byleth found herself cursing at her lack of a noble upbringing. 

Her boots dragged along the carpet. The heavy toll of this morning demanded that she spend the afternoon to herself. She daydreamed about a nice cup of tea, a methodical book on foreign swordsmanship techniques. The ideal things to unwind with.

So lost in her thoughts, then, that she hadn't noticed it. Until now.

Byleth's eyes shot open. She froze mid-stroll. Her head tilted to one side, and she blinked, as if the object would be rendered any less ridiculous.

But no, no matter the angle, it was still a dick. 

A really intricate, exotic looking dick. 

Oh, she just _had_ to get a closer look.

As she crept up to the dresser, eyes honed in on the dildo, her observations were as follows:

  * The material shone brightly. Coloured gradient from a vivid, sunset orange to a dulled, metallic gold, tip to base. _Not_ a natural hue. 



  * Tiny dimples texturised the body of the toy. Shallow set ridges wrapped and coiled around the length to then bunch neatly at the base, where it flared out most generously. _Not_ a natural dick shape. 



  * The more she examined the toy, the more it's appearance seemed to be inspired by a wyvern, if wyverns were neon coloured and had any interest in even slightly mimicking human anatomy. She could sense a common theme by now.



Her mind raced through the possibilities of its presence.

This room was Byleth's personal chambers, and she wasn't close enough to any other bedroom on the corridor for someone to just mistakenly place a toy on her dresser. Ruled out the chance for accidents. 

Her chambers were attended to on a fairly regular schedule. If the palace attendants had caught wind of it, there was sure to have been some blushed faces and _very_ pointed gossip in her direction that day. So, the culprit would have knowledge of the palace's cleaning schedule, knowledge to have slipped it in only recently. 

And aside from attendants, and herself, only one other person ever visited her room. Only one other person with cause and concern to know palace movements. Only one other person with the sheer audacity to make her flustered, to distract her by something so plainly lewd… 

He was up to something. _That's fine_ , she thought with narrowed eyes and the faintest of blushes. _Two can play that game_. 

\---

He was steps ahead of her, of course. 

\---

The rest of the day passed unassumingly. Byleth drank her tea, started the book on swords, pointedly ignored the dildo, finished the book on swords, still ignored the dildo, and left her chambers to take a light dinner, willing her thoughts to behave for just this once and stop trying to think about the kind of game Claude was up to. 

He wasn't present at dinner, either, which was no true cause for concern. Conflicting schedules had them seldom share meal times. Nature of politics, really. She ate her soup in silence, observing the comings and goings of house staff, of minor visiting lords and knights chatting amicably across the vast oak meal table, of the occasion nod in her direction and ever polite smiles. 

She finished up quickly. Passed a grateful thank you to the servers on her way out, and shuffled back to her room. 

Claude was bound to be still with the visiting Sreng ambassadors, meaning he wouldn't be retiring anytime soon. _Excellent_ , she thought.

Except - 

\- he was already in her bed.

She kept her expression neutral. He met her gaze with a wicked grin.

“Evening.”

“Evening,” she replied smoothly. The door latch closed with a soft _clink_ behind her. “You’re back early.”

He chuckled. “You’d be amazed what a full stomach does to tire out a travel-weary council.”

She unlaced her boots, leaning against the wall for stability. Pointedly _not_ looking at him. “No laced wine on the side?”

“Byleth, please, you wound me. Those days are long in the past.” A poignant pause, and then, “I experiment in other ways now.”

She grunted in recognition, shrugging off her shawl, working to unlace her pants and the rest of her outer garments. She didn’t stop until only her underwear remained, ignoring the sharp inhale that sounded from across the room. “I take it negotiations went well?”

“They did.” She could hear the pride in his voice. “Duke Ancil was happy with the proposed trade routes changes through the northwest Almyran plains. He said he’s wanted passage through that region for years, but he's been too terrified to request it up until now.” She heard movement, like Claude was shuffling further up the bed. “A shame.”

She winced, reaching for the comb on her dresser. “Another one who thinks Almyrans are brutes?” 

Claude let out a bemused noise. “Not quite. After I pressed him on it, it seems he thought it was home to a wild flock of wyverns.” 

Byleth snorted. Her few days in Sreng company had taught her they were not fond of the scaley beasts. She continued brushing out the knots in her hair, stewing over the news. 

“Is it actually?”

“Full of wyverns? Oh, you bet.” 

She turned to face him, finally, as she placed her comb down on the dresser.

Had she been mad at him for being one-upped? Goddess, it felt so long ago. 

Claude’s eyes shone with a pleased contentedness, of a day gone well and a night planned to be even better, and when they finally made eye contact, the whispers of her stubborn pride dissipated away. His mirth was infectious. And truthfully, she couldn’t deny herself. She was glad to see him.

He wasn’t wearing a nightshirt, so his chest (chiselled, fluffy, the stuff of dreams) was on full display, made even prominent by his arched posture, leaning back against the bed rest. His recline was relaxed - forearms behind his head, knees up high and wide and tenting the bed sheet that was draped over top. Her eyes trailed back up to his chest again, and this time she let her gaze linger. She caught the scar tissue under his nipples (self inflicted), the raw, patchy flesh on his lower waist (not self inflicted - a fire spell that he didn’t quite dodge in time), the soft trail of hair from his stomach down to his hip bone, infuriatingly cut short by that damn fabric…

“You good there, By?”

“Hmm,” she muttered, placing the comb back down, moving closer to the mattress. “I’m fine.”

"Thinking about anything in particular?" 

The words were bait, dangling in front of her. Damned if she confessed, damned if she didn't. 

Her response was carefully measured. "Nothing you don't already know about." 

He threw his head back and laughed. She loved that sound. 

She sat on the edge of the bed, angled slightly to face him. Her cheeks felt warm. Claude must've sensed it, because his grin turned soft as he wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes. 

"So I take it you liked Dragon's Lance?" 

Confusion marred her brow for a total of three seconds before it clicked. Her mouth flew open in surprise. "You named it?!" 

"How could I not?" The tease in his voice was betrayed by his own flushed cheeks. "A flashy name for a flashy member-" 

His words were cut short by a pillow to the face. 

She giggled as he thrashed about, trying to squirm out from underneath it. When she finally let go, tossing the pillow away, he took in a deep breath in and leveled her with a downright _devious_ grin. Rendered less serious by his frazzled appearance; the hair that had once been carefully slicked back was now all ruffled and sticking out oddly in certain places. 

"Come here, you," he teased, and lunged for her sides, pulling her down on top of his chest with a wheeze. She followed him willingly, letting herself sprawl across his chest and burying her face into his shoulder. The smell of pine, of parchment, of that musk born from stuffy robes and hot desert nights filled her nose and she inhaled in deeply, soothingly. 

Claude stroked her locks, grinning. "It wasn't just for show." 

Byleth made a questioning noise against his skin.

"Dragon's Lance."

Her cheeks burned again. Claude let his finger wander down her back as he continued. "I thought it might be fun to try something fresh."

"That's really what you're all about, isn't it," she said, after a thoughtful pause. 

He hummed in agreement. The tips of his fingers brushed gently down her spine, and she shuddered before continuing. "I admire that about you."

She didn't need to see him smile, warm and true, to know it was there. "I'm thankful for it every day."

It was her turn to shuffle about now, feeling giddy from his absent minded touches and the sheer warmth radiating from his chest. She pulled herself up to meet his eyes. 

"So what's your scheme, Claude?" 

"Hmm?" 

Still being coy. She poked him. 

"That thing. What did you have planned."

His grin was wide, toothy. "Ah. Want to see?" 

Calloused fingers lifted up from her spine and pushed down on the mattress to hoist himself upright. With a wink, he grabbed the bed sheet and unceremoniously threw it off to the side. 

_Dear goddess._

So _that's_ why his knees were raised. 

Strapped to his naked groin sat the infamous Dragon's Lance. It had snuggled itself into a ring, held flush to his body by thick straps of leather, and the dildo stood up just as proudly and erect as she had first found it so. 

Her bewildered eyes met Claude’s, and for a split second she thought she caught sheepishness in his expression. 

“If you’re not interested, I understand, I-”

The words died in his throat as Byleth lunged for his lips. If she noticed him squeak, she said nothing of it. 

Her hunger was something fierce, pressing up against his chest, his lips, tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth and relishing the little moans he gave her in response. As she moved on top to straddle him, the body of the dildo slid up against her ass. 

"Stars," Claude said, catching his breath as they parted. "I take that as a yes?" 

She nodded, reaching down to kiss his jaw, his neck, any free patch of his skin her lips could find. "Yes, _goddess_ , please."

He caught the bottom of his lip beneath his teeth. His fingers ran absent-mindedely up her sides, snaked around to trail up her spine. She shivered lightly. "I love your confidence, By, skies above you know I do." The pause was emphasised by a light tapping motion against her back. "But you'll let me prepare you first, yeah?" 

The noise Byleth made was almost disgruntled. Claude laughed and hugged her tight, gently rolling them both over until Byleth was pressed down against the mattress, a wriggling mess underneath him. His grin was wide and lopsided. Shining eyes darted knowingly to her underwear and back up again. 

A trail of kisses down her throat, her chest, her stomach. Feather-light, precise, enough pressure to stir the liquid pool of need simmering under the surface, but not enough to satisfy completely. Byleth’s shoulders sunk further into the mattress, her eyes lidded and mouth slightly parted. As Claude hummed, the noise thrummed against her skin. 

By the time Claude reached the junction of her thighs, Byleth was almost shivering in anticipation. She swore his lips could wring out her patience like nothing else. His touch sheer electricity when he gave it to her in full. He knew it, too. Wore the knowledge smugly on his face. Even when he coaxed her thighs apart and pushed her smallclothes aside to lap gently at her clit, his unruly locks obscuring her view, she knew the spark in his eyes would only shine brighter. 

Byleth's hands pawed at the sheets, her chest heaving up and down with deep, shaky breaths. Claude's tongue lapped at her slowly, and a groan escaped him when Byleth’s hips pushed down to demand more. 

He pulled away to give himself a sliver of room to breathe. He glanced up, smirking at Byleth’s knitted brows and demanding eyes. “I've been thinking of this all day.”

She would’ve responded in kind, but his mouth was upon her again, and the only sound that managed to escape her was the neediest of moans. 

A calloused finger entered the fray now, rubbing up against her slick folds, patiently coating itself in her arousal before he carefully pushed in. 

"Fuck," she said eloquently. Claude half laughed, half sighed. The resulting vibrations from the sound made the breath catch in her throat. 

He paused. She ached without his touch, but the angle made it difficult to see him plotting his next course of action, and so she stilled, tightly wound up in her anticipation.

"Breathe," he supplied. Byleth let go, and exhaled, deeply. "I've got you."

Two fingers pushed in. Claude gave her time to adjust. Before long, he was rubbing them against her inner walls, in that fast-in, slow-out drag he knew would have her demand more of him. Like clockwork, her hips thrust down insistently, and he huffed another laugh before he returned to suck on her clit. 

Byleth _wailed_. The sound carried across the room. She reached for his hair in a frenzy. Tossed his mussed locks about, pulled tight, and shuddered as three fingers worked to unwound her. 

Satisfied with his work, Claude slinked backwards, grin sloppy and wet. Admired the beautiful mess he'd left between her thighs, and a pang of lust settled in his stomach at the sight. His soaked fingers gently slid out to rest upon her hips.

“Can I?” 

The dildo rubbed up against her flushed folds. Byleth watched him stare at the toy with something more than just desire in his eyes- something inscrutable, something distant, and when he ran a lone finger down its length, sizing it up, she thought he may be internalising something beyond her reach.

“Please.”

He swallowed in anticipation. The fingers at her hips tightened, gripping the skin like a lifeline. The push was slow, steady, cautious. 

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” she said, voice unsteady, but tone certain. She shifted to prop herself up better against the pillows, careful not to dislodge the tip of the toy from within her. Claude followed suit and shuffled in further to match.

The sight of them joining, of that incredulous, flamboyant, incredibly-in-Claude’s-style toy pushing in, bit by bit, had her stomach doing flip-flops.

“You’ll let me know if it’s too much, right?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

The toy was almost half way in now, from what she could estimate, and she already felt _so full_. Her concern must’ve been evident, for Claude stilled, looking up to meet her eyes, a question in his own.

“I’m… It’s…” A beat, and then. “It’s so big.”

Unexpectedly, he groaned at that, control slipping just enough to allow a fraction of a thrust forward. The fingers that had once held her steady began to wander to the underside of her thighs, and with a little coaxing, he encouraged her to wrap them around his lower back. Once both stable, his touch wandered up to rub soothingly at Byleth’s waist.

“You’re beautiful like this, you know.” A confession barely above a whisper, the ghost of a blush on his cheeks. 

Byleth’s body couldn’t decide on whether it wanted to melt at his words or let them fuel her arousal. So naturally, it did both. The tips of her ears went red, and her inner walls clenched down hard upon the toy. Claude’s control slipped again, pushing minutely into her, and it didn't escape her notice this time.

“Can you feel me doing that?”

“Hmm?”

“This?”

She clenched down more purposefully now, rolling her hips ever so slightly - delighted when his mouth fell open and the smallest of moans escaped him.

“Yeah,” he breathed, eyes lidded. “It’s not a lot of… simulation, but it does press up against me.” 

_Oh, now that’s interesting_. 

“So if I do this?”

An insistent push and pull, leveraged by the support of his thighs and the tightening of her abdominal muscles. She wasn't immune to the sensations herself, unable to catch the faintest of gaps from leaving her lips, but the expression on Claude made it worth her while. 

He looked blissfully unable to speak. 

Up, and down. Less friction as she went along, edging ever so deeper inside, letting the gentle but insistent need to be fulfilled set a comfortable rhythm. 

Claude's eyes met hers before he squeezed them shut. His hands drifted across skin, a little clumsily, the movement of their thrusts throwing him off but determined nevertheless. 

His words were grunted out with some effort. "Want to, take this, further." 

Byleth watched as his broad, calloused hands stretched out to fan across her pelvis, watched at the pad of his thumb angled in towards her core, watched the way an errant tongue slipped by his lips and poked out in concentration at the same time she felt the contact where she needed it the most. 

The effect was instant. Her motions became jittery as the rolling sensation of his thumb on her clit sent a bolt of electricity straight through her. 

“Claude, yes-!”

Every gentle rub had her toes curl, mouth part further, breathe in air in wanting gasps, and her inner walls responded in kind, allowing him to push in deeper and deeper until Claude could bury himself at the hilt.

He paused then, just as breathless as her.

“Wow.”

They locked eyes for a moment. She saw reverence where he saw hunger. 

“Move,” she gasped, wriggling in her impatience. 

He nodded, expression glazed over. “Yeah, of course.”

This time his rhythm changed. Instead of broader, punctured thrusts, Claude stayed buried as he set a quicker, grinding motion to keep pace with his strokes on her clit. The change in stimulation had them groaning in sync.

“Like that?”

“Goddess, _please_.”

Let it be known Claude was ever happy to oblige. 

It wasn't long before Claude caught the tell-tale signs of her peak approaching. The silent gasps for air. A body suspended in lustful surprise. The arch of her spine, searching subconsciously for the tip of the wave that came crashing down not a moment later with a ferocity that shook her entire frame. 

For a moment, only the sounds of panting filled the air between them. Claude had stilled his moments to a complete stop. The hand that had rested on her clit crept down to settle for grabbing the base of the toy instead, nestling his fingers against her twitching entrance. _Goddess, she was twitching_.

“How are you feeling?”

Byleth snorted. Her lips twitched upwards into a smirk.

“Loud and clear. I’m going to try moving out now, ok?”

Easier said than done. Byleth’s muscles had the toy on lockdown. Carefully, inch by inch, he eased it out of her. As the tip finally came free, she practically mewled at him.

“That good, huh?”

She answered with another snort, but it was softer this time. She reached up and motioned for him to come closer, to which he laughed.

“Give me a moment, By. Just need to get this off.”

The leather straps were intricate enough to impede him in the same way it had done so in putting in on. Progress was slow. By the time he had shimmied his way out of the ensemble, tossing it to land on the other side of the bed (not his finest moment. He’d deal with the consequences later), Byleth had turned on her side, relaxed and loose. He lowered down beside her and reached for her hand.

For the longest time the two of them said nothing. Byleth had shuffled forward to entangle her legs in between Claude’s own, and pressed her face in the sweet junction between his neck and shoulder. Her fingers wandered the plains of his waist lovingly, enjoying the simpler pleasures of his warmth and wiry muscle.

Her voice was raw when she spoke next. “Your turn.”

Claude blinked. 

“What-”

With a speed that betrayed her earlier exhaustion, she rolled him over and climbed on top of him. He laughed as she proceeded to smother him in messy kisses.

“I’m honoured- _ddd_ ,” he gasped. Byleth had sauntered down the bed, lips at his stomach. Her eyes caught his own. Pupils dilated and expression just shy of ravenous. Without breaking eye contact, she crept ever closer to his groin, pausing to wait for Claude’s consenting nod, and mouthed at his cock.

“Fuck!”

He was still so worked up that even the simplest of her touches had him dangerously close. Byleth seemed delighted to realise this. With renewed enthusiasm, she sucked generously, using one hand to grip his thigh and the other to reach up to his sides, searching; he met her there, fingers interlacing with urgency in that desperate need to stay connected.

It was only when she squeezed him tightly back, murmuring contentedly into his crotch, that his body finally snapped. He cried out as his vision blanked completely, letting the aftershocks wash over him, the throbbing of his cock and the warmth of her mouth coaxing him back into a physical reality.

Byleth pulled away with a distinctly wet sound. She wiped her face with her arm, looking down at him much like a satisfied cat.

  
  


\----

  
  


“Where did you get it?”

“Hmm?”

He scooted in closer to press Byleth’s forehead against his chest. “Oh. Dragon’s La- ow!”

Byleth had pinched him. “I stand by the name.” Defiant as ever. 

A beat passed, and a small smile crossed his face. “Had it sourced from a merchant down at the bay. Think they were from Dagda. Excellent discretion on that one. Didn’t even bat an eye at the request.” He pulled her closer, looped an arm around the dip of her waist. 

She stewed over his words before speaking next. “Which disguise was it this time?”

His grin widened. “Thought you’d never ask.” His posture shifted, and the voice that left him was stilted, firm, deep. “Name’s Nim. Work for the palace fleet. Wanted to treat my hard earned king’s coin on something for the missus while I'm out at sea.”

Byleth hummed into his skin before shifting back slightly, the sudden need to make eye contact guiding her way. “That’s a new one.”

“Do you like it?”

Her expression was neutral as she uttered, “Not as much as I like _you_.”

The blunt honesty caught him off guard. His eyes widened, and as he took her in, a deep, boisterous laugh burst forth from him. “You - I -” He was wheezing now, shoulders shaking in the effort, and the infectious nature of it all had her giggle along with him.

A minute passed before the mirth fizzled back now into something warmer, something content. Claude squeezed her waist, and sighed when she pressed back into him.

“I like you a whole lot too.”

**Author's Note:**

> claude, to hilda: I need your advice  
> hilda, sporting a cheshire cat grin: how can I help my dear leader man?  
> claude: what merchant makes the best gear to fuck your wife with  
> hilda:  
> hilda: excuse me  
> claude:  
> claude: sorry, let me rephrase. I want to peg teach  
> hilda: well why didn't you say so! marianne LOVES this merchant by the-
> 
> \--
> 
> Thanks for reading! NSFW twitter is @rosey_chain, SFW game dev twitter is @sylveos.


End file.
